


it takes me all the way

by kinselllas



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 17:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinselllas/pseuds/kinselllas
Summary: In any other universe, with any other timeline, they could be happy.They could plan what color to paint their kitchen instead of reviewing escape routes and war paths.He would make her coffee and tell her about his day and Raven would smile, a smile that he has seen only two, maybe three times since she came down here.





	it takes me all the way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buries/gifts).



> for @buries prompt: I just want to stay here with you
> 
> Sorry this is so LATE! My computer crashed and I had to rewrite nearly the whole fic, but it's here! I'll admit because it is so late it's not beta'd. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> The story starts after 1x11 and bleeds into S2, but canon stays fairly vague.

_“What are you doing?”_

_“Moving on.”_

 

Bellamy wakes to the sound of his tent flap opening, hand reflexively moving to the rifle by his bed and he squints his eyes to make out the intruder. Raven’s ponytail is outlined in the entryway and he sits up, promptly. She has to need something, no other reason for her presence, other than the last time she was in his tent, and they both know that was an anomaly…

“Raven,” he says, voice low with sleep.

She’s stripping off her jacket in seconds and mumbles, “Don’t talk,” before climbing on his lap, her lips finding his. It’s rushed and a little biting, but Bellamy would be lying if he said he didn’t like it, didn’t _want_ -

Bellamy sighs into her mouth.

“Raven,” he repeats.

He should just shut up, let her _taketaketake_ from him, the way he can feel her aching to do- it’s not as though he doesn’t get anything out of this.

“I said,” her hand pushes his chest down sharply, “ _don’t talk_.”

So he doesn’t.

 

 

Bellamy has found that loyalty toes a fine line with obligation. He has spent the better part of his life with his sister as the central focus. He breathes as long as she breathes, he’s happy if she’s happy. He is a moon spinning around her earth at all times-

- _until he’s not._

Suddenly he’s orbiting a new planet. Octavia is gone and Bellamy gravitates toward Raven. His gaze fixes on the sharp lines in her face, her concentration is a thing of beauty when he’s sure her mind is racing at all times. He feels a similar sense of loyalty to her, but there’s no obligation. Raven couldn’t care less from where he stands, has never asked him to care about her. He’s sure she wouldn’t want him to, anyway. It doesn’t change the fact that he’d take a bullet to keep her safe.

 

Raven takes the bullet, in the end.

 

 

Bellamy blinks his eyes open with chains around his wrists and the sight of Raven asleep on a medical bed. His gaze flickers over her body quickly, landing on the darkening wound at her back, close enough to hit her spine. He’s hit with a wave a nausea, dizzying and intense. Bellamy has no idea how he got here.

Raven shifts, just slightly, and opens her eyes. When she registers his face he wonders if she’s disappointed it’s not Finn waiting for her. Instead she gives him a tiny eye roll followed by the hint of a smile. Bellamy mirrors it, and catches himself. He’s not supposed to be _here._

“Heard you threw a riot to get in here,” she rasps, voice weak.

Bellamy swallows, suddenly nervous, “You don’t say.”

He notes the dark circles under her eyes, the pain in her features. He could ask her if she’s in pain, but it sounds like a ridiculous question in his head. He knows she’s in pain, and he also knows she would never admit it. Bellamy opens his mouth to speak and swallows. She’s so quiet, so calm. There’s a bullet in her back.

“Are you okay?” He asks, quietly.

 

Raven just shrugs.

 

 

It’s dark outside when they find each other again. Raven uses a brace and a walking stick to enter his tent and Bellamy doesn’t sit up like he used to. He knows she doesn’t want him to call attention to her injury and it really makes no difference to him either way. She fumbles for awhile, and curses to herself in the silence of his tent.

It’s not until she says, “ _Can you help me?_ ” that he jumps from his spot to unstrap the brace and help her into bed. It’s an easy, quiet, process and then she’s laying next to him. She’s tucked into his side without a hint of affection. At some point, Bellamy moves his hand to her bare shoulder, thumb grazing gently.

Raven sighs and Bellamy inhales, taking it in- taking it _all_ in.

 

 

Bellamy watches and Raven’s mind is searching. He won’t ask what she’s searching for, but he has a pretty good idea. Finn came first, just like Octavia came first. They will always be loyal to the ones who came first. He can feel her thoughts weighing at the back of her mind.

“You should go after them,” she says one day, shirt draped over his lamp, “Clarke and Finn, Monty, all of them.”

Bellamy nods, hands shifting over her stomach. She’s so beautiful. Sometimes Bellamy can’t understand how anyone could not choose Raven.

“I know,” he agrees. Because _he does_. “I just want to stay here with you.”

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

Bellamy nods, because he wants to believe that, he _really_ does. But he’s also learned that every moment on Earth is fleeting, and after almost losing her once, he fears his moments with Raven could be gone even faster.

He says, “ _I know_ ,” and tells himself to believe it.

 

 

_Finn always came first._

 

 

Clarke has a plan to get Bellamy into Mount Weather and rescue their friends, and he can feel Raven’s gaze burning into him, begging him to refuse. She couldn’t save Finn, but maybe she can keep him safe if he would just say _no_.

 _He can’t say no_.

 

He follows Raven to her tent and swallows the cool air. It strikes him then, how cursed they really are. In any other universe, with any other timeline, they could be happy. They could plan what color to paint their kitchen instead of reviewing escape routes and war paths. He would make her coffee and tell her about his day and Raven would smile, a smile that he has seen only two, maybe three times since she came down here.

Instead they stand in her cold tent and Raven’s fingers shake over the map of Mount Weather, her voice cracking just slightly as she talks. Bellamy moves to sit, hand tugging gently at her wrist. At least, she’ll be safe here. Raven freezes under his touch and shifts her gaze to meet his.

“Don’t go,” she whispers. Then, “ _Stay._ ”

Bellamy shuts his eyes, imagines a world where every conversation, every situation is not life or death. Life could be about more than just surviving, and they could _live._ Before he can open his eyes, Raven’s mouth is on his, and she’s crawling into his lap. He thinks this might just be her last ditch effort to make him stay. Her fingers curl into his hair and she tugs, gently. Bellamy buries a groan against her jaw. His hands slide up her shirt and her skin is so warm in brisk air of the tent.

Bellamy lays her down gently and the map of Mount Weather goes discarded on the floor.

_This is not the end._

 

 

 

_“Find your way back,” she sighs, “okay?”_

He says, _“I will,_ ” and tells himself to believe it.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
